Disclaimer: Don’t get addicted, this is neither my real face nor a comeback… I’m merely flirting with words and I’ll surely leave you hanging again (Flirting 101: Seduce. Vilify. Ignore.). Should you be mad at me? Absolutely! But hey, I’ll be… Nevermind!
In the meantime, let’s all enjoy this rare weekend of poetry…
TITLE? No matter…
It was the best two months of my life. He worked till 4pm, five days a week and we only got to chat from around 5pm every working day. We however got to spend every afternoon together on weekends.
He loved and adored me. Again, I can’t really say why exactly but isn’t that what love is all about? We never had an argument and he always pampered me.
On my twentieth birthday, he took me to the mall and I shopped to my satisfaction. He ordered for me a huge cake and a few of my friends came over to my place later in the evening for the little get-together I arranged. He was not present though, as I wasn’t sure how dad would have received him. It was so much fun, I hadn’t been so loved my entire life. Continue reading
Sometimes we sit back and reminisce about a certain past. Deep thoughts about the most important moments, the paths we took that changed the course of time, our course of time. Now, I sit down and think about those important turns I took that defined my journey. Yes, I spend most of my days thinking about a past that I can’t possibly change. Yet, it’s hard not to. What if I hadn’t met… Ok, it doesn’t really make a difference now. I can’t stop though, even when I know it’s insignificance. I guess I’ll just have to keep writing and telling my story. It soothes me sometimes, it brings me succor. However, at other times, I just want to end it all. Continue reading
Twenty-four year old Ahmed Garba is a peach of a gentleman. Tall, dark and athletic; the quintessential and eligible bachelor. He bagged a first class degree in Banking and Finance from one of the most popular and reputable private Universities in the country. He is the one and only son of Alhaji S. Garba, a foremost businessman in the state. His mum, Alhaja Mardiyah is well known for her philanthropic gestures. He was pampered and it was very clear to see why.
He worked at one of the country’s renowned banks not because he needed the salary, but because he had to put his certificate to judicious use and garner experience for when he takes over his father’s business empire.
I spent a couple more weeks in school after my final defense (which I aced), saying my last goodbyes to friends and packing up. My hostel mates especially found it hard to believe I was finally leaving. I could see the hurt in their eyes as I emptied my room one cloth at a time. Banjo would definitely miss my dinner. Dad was supposed to come pick me up on that Saturday but he made up some silly excuse and left me hanging. Well, he more than made up for it by transferring a substantial amount of money into my account though. Hehe, I loved that he didn’t come after all.
I had always thought the concept of love and loving someone were supposed to be more fun and rosy. I had listened with rapt attention how my friends went on and on about what a beautiful thing love was. Yes, it stings you at first then it begins to sooth you. For me, I guess it was all twisted on its head. The ugly thing blew warm, enjoyable air before taking chunks out of my size eight body. It donned on me that maybe, I was not good enough for him after all. They say time heals all wounds but I believe my time ran on the hour glass mentality. It was slow, painful and grainy. Emotions percolated in and out of me in all tiny pores and holes. I was down, deflated and agonized.